


such a mournful sound

by torigates



Category: Young Justice (Cartoon)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-07
Updated: 2012-10-07
Packaged: 2017-11-15 19:46:38
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,535
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/531036
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/torigates/pseuds/torigates
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Conner's neck hurt.</p>
            </blockquote>





	such a mournful sound

**Author's Note:**

> Major, big, big spoilers for Darkest.

Conner’s neck hurt. 

That was the thing. His neck was sore. Being a Kryptonian clone meant that his relationship with pain was unique. Most things that hurt human beings--regular people--couldn’t affect Conner. He’d felt pain, of course. He had been thrown into walls, had whole buildings topple down on him, had almost drowned--even Kryptonians needed to breathe, after all. 

He had been exposed to Kryptonite. 

Conner knew pain. 

But that fucking collar. They had seen those collars before. Years ago, now, when Conner was still brand new, when he met Wolf for the first time, and then again in Belle Reve. Conner knew what those collars could do. 

It hadn’t really prepared him, though. He hadn’t been prepared to feel all his powers drain out of him, hadn’t been prepared to feel weak and vulnerable like that--like a human being, a regular person who could feel pain and die. 

His neck still ached. 

It should have been impossible, Conner knew that. His powers were fully restored by now, his body was healed. Yet sometimes he still felt the phantom echo of M’gann’s voice in his head. His whole existence was an exercise in what should have been impossible. 

And still here he stood. 

 

-

 

Conner’s arms were aching by the time they made it back to shore. Dick had removed the collar before the explosion went off, but he still wasn’t at one hundred percent. 

Mount Justice was... gone. There were no other words to describe it--the cave was gone. There were rocks, and rubble everywhere, debris was still floating in the air, some of it still on fire. The heat from the flames was wildly intense, and Conner could do nothing but stare at his home. 

His home was gone. 

It was. It was oddly reminiscent of his first night. The charred remains of the Cadmus labs all around them, and Conner staring up at the night sky for the first time in his short life. He remembered feeling so full in that moment. Full of potential and fear, hope and amazement, wonder and desire. 

Superman had descended on him, then. It had changed everything.

Superman wasn’t going to appear now. Conner wished that he would, even if it meant facing that rejection all over again. He’d face that and worse a million times over if it meant he still had the Cave to come home to. 

The Cave is--was his only home. The only home he had ever known. Clark had taken him a few times to Smallville, and it had been nice. The Kents were wonderful, and welcoming, but they weren’t his. Not in the way the team was. 

Conner could only stare as he watched his home crumble and burn. 

It was sometime later--hours, minutes, days, he wasn’t entirely sure--others arrived. Roy, Ollie, Dinah, Rocket, Batgirl, Robin, other members of the League. 

Zatanna. M’gann. 

M’gann’s rage and grief was a quiet roar. Conner could feel it pressing violently against the his skull, and he ached to let down his defenses. He wanted desperately to pull her in and soothe the ragged edges of her mind and his own with the familiar comfort of being close to her. He wanted desperately not to be here at all. 

He could not do any of those things. Could not even stand close to her, or look straight at her. He kept sneaking glances out of the corner of his eye, like if he looked at just the right time or the right angle everything would be familiar and right again instead of broken and wrong. 

Zatanna stood next to him in complete silence. The Cave had been her home, too. Conner knew her feelings were complicated, mixed up with Doctor Fate and Zatara, but it had been her home too. They stood together silently, and Conner was aware of the others moving around him, shifting through the rocks, looking for something, Conner wasn’t sure what. 

Answers maybe. 

He knew they wouldn’t be found in a pile of ash. 

He doubted he would find them ever, even if he could somehow get his hands on Kaldur, hold him down and ask him why. And, for a brief moment, he understood M’gann. He wondered, given the opportunity, what he wouldn’t tear apart to understand why. 

Zatanna gripped his hand, and although it didn’t hurt, not now that he had his strength back, he imagined that it did. Channeled all his pain and grief into the tight clasp around his fingers, and that made it manageable. If only for the moment. 

There was a faint buzz, the brief sound of rushing, and suddenly Wally was next to him. 

“Oh my god,” he breathed out. “What happened.” It wasn’t a question. 

“There was an explosion,” Conner said after a tense moment of silence. “Kaldur, he got into the cave--somehow. He took Blue, and Gar, and,” he paused. “Bart.” 

He watched the colour drain from Wally’s face. Watched Wally take in the loss of their base. 

“How,” Wally whispered after a moment. “ _How did this happen_?” 

The answer was something Conner would very much like to know. 

“This wasn’t supposed to happen,” Wally said again. 

The three of them stood there and watched as firefighters put out the last of the flames. 

“Where are you staying?” Wally asked once it became clear there was nothing left to do. _There was nothing left at all._

Conner shrugged his shoulders. He hadn’t even thought of that. When his home was gone, when M’gann was lost to him, and his team was half captured, where else could he really go. 

“I don’t--” he started.

“Come with me,” Wally said, cutting him off before he could finish his sentence. “We’ll-we’ll go to my parents’ house.” 

Suddenly, he felt sixteen again (in weeks, in years). He stood surrounded by destruction with nowhere to go and no one to take him in except for Wally and his parents. Conner wanted to scream, wanted to cry, wanted to throw things, wanted to find his team, get them home safe, wanted to get his hands on Kaldur and rip and tear and _break_ until there was nothing left, and maybe then, maybe then things would somehow be right again. 

(They wouldn’t be.) 

 

-

 

It was after two in the morning by the time they got back to the Wests’ house in Missouri. Mary and Rudolph were both awake, sitting at the kitchen table drinking coffee. They stood when Conner and Wally entered the kitchen.

“Oh thank god,” Mary breathed out. She reached for her son and pulled him into a hug. Conner tried not to notice the way Wally held on tight, tried not to notice how reluctantly he let go of his mother, tried to bury his feelings deep down inside him when she pulled him into a hug. 

“Conner, honey,” she said. She pressed her hands flat against the back of his neck, and if Conner held on too tightly himself, no one said anything. 

“Barry called,” Rudy said. “He told us what happened. The cave, Bart...” he trailed off, and the four of them stood in silence. 

“Let’s get you boys settled,” Mary said after a moment. 

Conner knew he shouldn’t. But it was easy and it felt safe to let someone else take care of him for just a moment. Someone else could take care of things for just a little while, and in the morning he would get up, he would help Nightwing track down Bart, Gar, Jamie, even La’gaan. He’d help find a new base, and he’d help run the team. 

But for now, now it was easy to let Mary lead him up the stairs. It was easy to take the spare blankets she gave him, the spare clothes he had left the last time he came to visit. It was easy to let her usher him to the bathroom to change while she made up the bed. 

It was easy to sit down on the bed, Wally’s old bed, the very first bed he had ever slept in, and not think. He could let other people worry about it--just for now. 

Once Mary was gone, Conner looked over to where Wally was hovering awkwardly by the bedroom door. 

“Are you going to be okay?” he asked. “For tonight I mean.” 

“Yeah.” 

Wally nodded. “Okay,” he said. “Okay. I’m going to--fuck.” He rubbed his hand over his eyes tiredly. Conner wondered when they all got so old. “I’m going to go find Dick,” he said. “I need to talk to him _right now_.” 

There was something going on there. Conner was too tired, too sore, too _raw_ to try and find out what it was. 

“Okay,” he said. 

“Just try not to let me find you in the closet when I get back,” Wally said. He laughed but it was forced, hollow. 

Conner tried to smile. 

“I’ll be back before morning,” Wally said. 

Once he was gone, Conner lay down on the bed. He swore he could still feel the heat of the explosion on his skin, and when he closed his eyes everything was orange and bright. 

His neck hurt.


End file.
